CHAPTER 5: "Long Journey North"
For the next three days, the Cortezes and the Lopezes worked together to prepare for the journey. Together, they went ahead and harvested their corn, beans, chili peppers, and medicinal herbs, even though they weren't fully ripe yet. The women washed their families' clothes. Juan and Felipe braided ropes to tether the goats to the hay cart. Meanwhile, Felipe attended catechism class alone on Saturday, because Rafael still had an earache that day. The two families went to confession that evening, and attended Mass the next morning. (Juan stayed home on both occasions.) They spent all Sunday together, as always, and socialized with others in the village plaza that evening.
"Felipe will ride in the cart," Juan said, a few days after the soldier had delivered the announcement. "The pushcart will go in the hay cart in case we need it."
He put on his straw sombrero as he spoke. The gray felt sombrero hung on its nail, next to the one where typically the straw hat hung when Juan wasn't using it. His poncho and Felipe's serape and poncho hung on their own nails, on the other side. He wrapped his fingers around the serape and draped it over his right shoulder.
Consuela nodded. "All our things'll go in the hay cart." She ran her fingers through her long brown hair as she spoke, then leaned toward the spindle to check the cotton thread she had just spun. When she had enough thread, she would dye it and weave it into cloth.
Tilting his straw sombrero, Juan strode outside. Felipe looked up from the wood he was arranging in the firepit for Consuela's cooking fire.
"Mommy, why can't Bala and Blanco ride in the cart with me? I'd take good care of them."
Consuela smiled and shook her head. "It wouldn't be good for the goats, hijo mio. They need to walk."
Felipe shrugged. "What about me?"
Consuela leaned back from her spindle. "You'll ride in the cart, like your papá said."
Felipe nodded. "Can Rafael ride with me?"
Consuela looked sad. Felipe frowned. Something was wrong.
"He's not goin' with us, son."
Felipe just gaped at her in shock. He said nothing.
"Your godfather Lopez can't go with us." Consuela patted her hair and resumed spinning. "He and his family're goin' with another group."
Felipe froze. He just couldn't believe it. The Lopezes weren't going to go with Felipe and his parents?! How on earth could that be?!
"But why?"
Consuela glanced at him. "Seems the alcalde said us peons are goin' to get divided up into groups. Each group's goin' to a different place. You and your papá and me are goin' in one group, and your godparents and Rafael are goin' with another. The padre told your father and me yesterday, after church. He talked to the alcalde himself."
Felipe bit his lip and sighed. "I want them to go with us!" he complained. "I don't want to go without them."
Consuela rose to her feet and approached her son. She hugged him for a long moment. The familiar sweaty smell of her dress--sweating after a morning of hard work--comforted him, as did the feel of her arms around his upper back.
"I know," she said, gently. "But it can't be helped, son. The alcalde says it's goin' to be this way, and he don't listen to peons." She kissed him on the scalp. "Hijo, why don't you take some corn to your godfather? I promised him some, yesterday. You can stay and visit if you want."
Felipe nodded and wiped his eyes. "Si, Mamá." He wiped bits of bark onto his white trousers and rubbed his smudged hands over his blue shirt with the black lines running up and down it.
Since it was raining, the little boy donned his wool poncho and straw sombrero. He trudged outside and picked up several of the ears of corn he and his father had harvested the day before. He carried the ears of corn to his godfather's farm. The rain drummed on his sombrero and ran down his light-brown poncho as he climbed the hill and approached his godfather's hut. Paco stepped outside and waved a greeting. Felipe smiled back.
Godfather Lopez smiled at the little boy as Felipe handed him the ears of corn. "Gracias, amigo." Paco bent over and laid the bundle of ears on the ground, then frowned. "You're not happy."
Felipe nodded and gazed down at his bare feet, now caked with mud. Paco knelt before him, cupped his fingers under the child's chin, and raised his face till his eyes met Paco's. "Want to tell me why?"
Felipe stifled a sob. "Mommy says you're—you're not comin' with us."
Paco sighed. "No, we're not. I wish we could, mi godson." He laid a hand on Felipe's shoulder. "I promise you this. It won't last forever. And when we come back to San Miguel, we'll be together again, if God is willin'."
Felipe nodded. Maybe the alcalde'll change his mind, he thought. Maybe he'll let Godfather Lopez go with us, anyway. Silently, the little boy prayed that God would change the alcalde's mind.
"Don't you worry." Paco winked at Felipe. "Your mamá and papá are strong. They'll make sure everythin' goes right on the trip."
Felipe nodded. "Si, Godfather Lopez."
Paco rose to his feet. "Want to say hola to Rafael?" He glanced at the doorway. "He's feelin' better now."
"Si, Godfather Lopez." Felipe smiled at the prospect.
For the next two hours, Felipe and Rafael played quietly, on Alicia Lopez's orders. As they did, they talked about the upcoming trip and wondered where they were going and when they would be reunited.
At last, reluctantly, Felipe said good-bye and went home. The rain had stopped, and the gray clouds were breaking up. When he arrived, his mother met him at the door.
"We're leavin' in the mornin', son." She ruffled Felipe's brown hair. "We got to pack the hay cart today, when your father gets home."
Juan soon arrived, and the family loaded all their possessions into the hay cart, packed in two huge bundles. The pushcart rested on top of the bundles. For the rest of the afternoon, they relaxed and basically wandered around, all of them nervous, fidgety, and at loose ends. At choretime, Felipe helped his father feed the burro and goats. As he followed his father back to the hut, he paused to look at the setting sun for a long moment. It glowed a golden-orange as it hovered on the western horizon.
Where are we goin'? How long are we gonna be gone? Felipe wondered, gazing at the sun. I don't want to be gone a long time, without Godfather and Godmother Lopez! Or Rafael. He glanced down at his bare, dirt-encrusted feet, then entered the hut.
At suppertime, Felipe and his parents ate leftovers from that morning. As the fire cast reflections on the walls, Felipe and his mother knelt on the dirt floor and prayed with Consuela's rosary. Immediately after prayers, the whole family went to bed.
At dawn the next morning, while Juan and Felipe fed the goats, Consuela rolled up the sleeping mats. She loaded them and the sitting mats into the cart. The family drank milk for breakfast.
A group of soldiers arrived on horseback a few minutes after the Cortezes had finished breakfast. "The alcalde orders you to come with us to town," one of them said. "All peons are to go there, right now."
Juan and Consuela looked at each other and nodded. They had been expecting this order for the last few days. Juan carefully placed his felt sombrero on his head, buttoned his faded gray cotton vest over his shirt, then inserted his arms into the sleeves of his dark-brown jacket. Felipe donned his poncho and put on his sombrero, and slipped his feet into his woven leather sandals. Consuela draped her woolen yellow shawl over her shoulders.
Juan tethered the goats to the back of the hay cart. He had already placed the two big bundles in the cart and hitched the burro in front.
Consuela climbed onto the seat while Juan lifted Felipe in the back. "Sit down," he ordered the boy in his habitual severe tone. "Don't stand up while the cart's movin'."
Felipe nodded. "Si, Papá."
Felipe grabbed hold of the bars and gazed at the hut. His father climbed on the seat next to his wife. He took the reins and chirruped to the burro. The donkey plodded forward, pulling the hay cart toward town. Felipe gazed at the hut until it disappeared from view. He wriggled till he faced the inside of the cart. As he leaned against the side, he uncrossed his legs.
The soldiers trotted their horses alongside the cart. Felipe prayed and prayed that the Lopezes would soon join them, but they never did. The cool, early-morning breeze ruffled his hair.
Minutes later, the Cortez family arrived in town. Multitudes of peons, in carts and wagons and on foot, were congregating in the plaza. Felipe looked around and wondered what was going on.
"Silencio!" The sound of the familiar commanding voice startled everyone. All the peons hushed.
The alcalde stood on a platform, dressed in his officer's uniform. He stood ramrod straight, and his left hand gripped his sword's scabbard.
"As you all know, there's a revolution going on. For several years, now, New Spain's been trying to win independence from the mother country."
Felipe furrowed his eyebrows. What did the alcalde mean? What was he talking about? He knew that a revolution was a type of war, but what did the rest of the alcalde's words mean?
The alcalde paused for a moment, to gaze at the hundreds of peasants as they stayed silent and fixed their attention on his face. "Throughout that time, there have been a number of battles in various places. Very soon, I've been told, there's going to be one here, so I'm evacuating all peons to other regions until the danger is past. I'm dividing you all into groups. Listen carefully as I call out the heads of families."
He drew a folded piece of paper out of the inside pocket of his blue frock coat and unfolded it. For the next half-hour, the alcalde read a list of the family heads out loud. "Group One will consist of the following families. Pedro Garcia, Esteban Castenada..." He read out loud the names of 50 men. The soldiers forced those men and their families to gather together.
The alcalde then read the names of the families who would form Group 2. Felipe listened attentively. So far, the alcalde had not read aloud his father's name or his godfather's. The little boy rose to his knees to scan the crowd. To his disappointment, Paco and his family were nowhere to be seen. Felipe squatted back down and crossed his legs together.
Maybe he'll let us go together, the little boy thought, as he made the sign of the cross and glanced at the sky.
Suddenly, his hopes were dashed. For Group 3, the alcalde read aloud the name of Paco Lopez, but not Juan Cortez. Felipe slumped against the side of the hay cart and closed his eyes. A sob welled up his throat, which he tried to swallow.
"I want Godfather Lopez to go with us!" Felipe pursed his lips as he whispered those words.
When the alcalde had divided all the peons into five groups, he nodded. "The soldiers will escort each group to its destination. When the danger is past--and I pray that will be soon--I will send soldiers to bring you all back to San Miguel. Vaya con Dios!"
The peons and the soldiers set out. As Juan lifted the reins and chirruped to the burro, Felipe looked frantically for his godparents and Rafael. Where are they? he thought, panic-stricken. Why can't I see 'em?! The hay cart began to jolt.
The crowd slowly moved toward the outskirts of town. Once outside its borders, the groups split off and left in different directions, led by patrols of soldiers. Felipe kept looking for the Lopezes until all the other groups were out of sight.
Felipe sighed. They had no choice. He would not see his beloved godfather until it was safe to return to San Miguel. He slumped his shoulders and leaned his head against the bars of the hay cart.
Felipe wondered where they were going. How long would they stay where the alcalde was sending them? Would they come back soon? What was going to happen to them?
Maybe we won't be gone long, Felipe thought. Maybe we'll come back tomorrow, and everythin'll be all right. Maybe Godfather Lopez and Godmother Lopez and Rafael'll get back home first. He leaned against the side of the cart, crossed his legs, and sucked his index finger.
Day after day, he wondered whether that would happen. The group of peons he and his parents had been assigned to traveled north, even when it rained. Some of the peasants walked and carried their loads. Some led their burros as their donkeys carried their possessions. Some rode in jolting carts or wagons, as Felipe and his parents were doing.
At night, they made camp on the Mexican desert. The men and boys built campfires while the women prepared meals. The soldiers stood on duty to guard them, and to see that no one tried to run away.
Much to Felipe's relief, he had no nightmares. He had feared that he would keep having them; instead, his sleep was dreamless. Maybe they were finally over. Mercifully, it never rained at night during the journey.
One day, a week after their journey had begun, Consuela sat slumped and wiped her perspiring face. She looked so tired. All the peasants did, Felipe noticed, as did the soldiers escorting them. Those who were walking must be footsore as well, Felipe thought. He sat on the cart seat between his parents, looking around.
"It's been seven days." She sighed. "I hope we get there soon."
Juan nodded. "Me, too. I'm gettin' tired of drivin' day after day." Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he grumbled; he lifted his straw sombrero to wipe his damp forehead. Sweat stains covered his white cotton shirt. His serape hung limply down the front.
"I wish Godfather Lopez was with us!" Pursing his lips, Felipe wiped his face with his shirtsleeve.
Consuela glanced back at him. "Si, Felipe. We all do."
Felipe said no more. He climbed into the back, leaned against the side of the jolting cart, and gazed at the two huge bundles that formed their possessions, and at the pushcart that rested on top of them. Where will we stay? he wondered. How long?
Felipe was grateful that, so far, he'd had no nightmares while on the journey. He could only hope that they would never return.
"Mommy."
"Si, Felipe?"
Felipe scratched his arm. "I'm glad I'm not havin' no bad dreams. I hate bad dreams!"
"Me, too! I don't blame you." Consuela half-turned to smile at her son. "Maybe they're over."
"I hope so," Juan grumbled. "They woke me up night after night!"
Felipe glanced at his father. Juan had not been nearly as irascible on this trip as he usually was. He was more likely to grumble or scold than he was to yell, slap, and/or whip his wife and son.
I'm sure glad Papá's not getting' mad at us so much, Felipe thought. The cart jolted on and on.
Several hours later, Consuela looked back at Felipe. "I think we're gettin' near the place where they're takin' us, son. There's a pueblo in the distance."
Felipe straightened up. "Papá, can I get up and see it, por favor?"
Juan shook his head. "No, Felipe. Too many people around us. You'll see it when we get there."
Half an hour later, the Cortezes and the other peasants arrived. A huge rock structure with huge square holes in the front stood facing them, as did a huge, whitewashed building. Felipe wondered what they were. Soldiers milled about in front of the two structures.
The soldiers from San Miguel led the crowd of peons past the two structures. Minutes later, they arrived at an equally huge barn, made of rocks. "We're here." Juan sighed. "We're finally here. We're gonna stay in this barn."
Felipe gaped at the huge building. He had never seen a barn so big!
Juan drove into the barn and halted the hay cart next to an empty stall. "Get out!" he ordered his wife and son. Felipe scrambled to the ground and stretched his arms above his head, yawning. Hay crunched under his sandals. The sweet smell of hay and the earthy smell of livestock assailed his nostrils.
"Mommy, I wish the Lopezes were with us." He yawned again. "Do we have to stay here long?"
Consuela stretched, in her turn. "I don't know, son." She looked around. "We'll stay here until it's time to go back."
Felipe turned in a circle, gazing at everything around him. "Why is this barn so big?"
"A caballero owns it, hijo. He probably has lots of animals. Most caballeros do."
Felipe shrugged. He gazed around him again. Peons were already unpacking their burros, wagons, and carts, and making camp everywhere he looked.
Are we goin' to be here long? he wondered silently. What's gonna happen to us?
END OF CHAPTER 5